His text had been short, sweet, and right to the point.
Clay:
Find me in the morning.
I hadn't responded. I'd also been too wound up to fall asleep easily, but a little Home Shopping Network on the television had my eyes drooping quickly. The sound of country music blaring out of my phone this morning had me getting up, ready to do it all over again.
When I got to the arena, I got the impression some of these boys had ended up celebrating last night. They looked like shit now, and yet the chatter was back. There was a soft hum in the air that wasn't quite the same cocksure bullshit I was used to, but it sounded damned good to my ears.
"Yeah," a guy was saying as I fell in line behind him, "Cody's not only in, she's pushing Ty and Renato. Only ones refusing to play along are Austin, Eli, and Derek. So far as I care, they're just digging their hole deeper. I mean, those are the same ones who jumped Cody, aren't they?"
"Just Austin and Derek," I corrected, making one of them flash me a smile. "Eli wasn't in on that."
"Jake!" He reached out to slap my arm like we were old friends. "So, we're making sure the guys who weren't at the bar are good with doing it again."
"And hopefully we won't have to keep doing this too long," I said.
"But Cody's got us covered," the guy told his friend. "I guess we've got some backup funds now, just in case we can't get to the next event. She's got Jake covering that part."
I didn't even care if Cody was getting the credit. In truth, I liked it. She'd gotten shit on hard when she'd shown up on the Tough Enough series. To see these new riders accepting her so easily was not something I wanted to screw with.
Then the guy sucked in a breath, clearly remembering something. "Oh! And Cody's standing in for J.D. as the head American while he's out."
"Isn't she a rookie?" his buddy asked.
I chuckled. "J.D.'srookie. Trust me, she's the heir apparent. She also has his ear - whether she wants to hear it or not."
"There's that," the guy said just as the line moved, letting him take his turn at the counter.
Surprisingly enough, they seemed ok with this. I'd figured there'd be more bitching about throwing rides, but evidently it was different if we all did it. I also hadn't expected these guys to toss out Cody's name as a reason to keep striking, but it made sense in a way. She'd proven she didn't quit unless she had to. And this mess certainly made us all feel like we didn't have another option.
The way they'd all jumped on this made me think the top-name riders weren't the only ones pissed about the change in bullfighters. Then again, if Renato got a career-ending injury, he had a new family to go home to. He had the money to comfortably shift into a new phase of his life. Ty was the same, and I couldn't say I was that far behind.
These guys? They'd just end up as the losers. One more name to be forgotten in the list of men who hadn't made it big in bull riding.
Eventually, it was my turn at the counter. I hurried through my own check-in, dropped my bags in the warm-up area, and turned back around to explore a little. Around here, somewhere, there would be a set of stairs. Each one of these arenas was a little different, but the sound booth was always up at the very top, and I knew my brother expected me to show up. Well, I was here, so now I just had to find him.
I'd just located the stairs that led up there when I spotted the last person I wanted to see: my father. His back was to meand his arms were crossed over his chest like he was chewing someone's ass out. I was about to turn the corner when a tall, lean woman moved closer, allowing me to see her.
She wore black. Her combat boots, her jeans, and even her tee were black, but not like J.D. or Cody. No, this reminded me of Renato's wife a bit. Hell, even this chick's hair, eyeliner, and lipstick were black! But when she turned a bit more, I recognized that bright pink logo on her shirt.
It was the same crazy doll-thing Cody wore, and that definitely looked like the sort of person who'd work for a video game company. Curious, I moved a little closer, hoping to listen in without getting myself in shit - just as everything blew up.
"Look," my father snarled at this woman, "I don't need some tranny bitch trying to tell me how to run my shows!"
The look that woman gave him was the sort that would've made J.D. proud. "Mr. Merrill, that term is an offensive one. I'd prefer you simply call me a woman."
Yeah, her voice was husky in a really nice way, but maybe my father wasn't wrong about her. Granted, he'd use the worst term he could, but whether this woman was trans or not didn't really change the fact she represented a sponsor, and those sponsors kept our sport running. He'd just been bitching about that exact thing yesterday!
"You go tell Mr. Hunter," my father growled at her, "that he can send a real representative..." And he braced up, stepping into the woman's face threateningly. "...because we representgoodfamily values here."
"Sir…" the woman tried.
"You think my attitude is bad?" Donald sneered. "Just wait until you meet the riders. Oh, they will fuck you up, boy, and don't you think I'll stop them."
My feet were moving before my brain kicked in. "Hey!" I snapped, storming forward to put myself between them. "Stepback, Mr. Merrill." And I glared in my father's face. "Or I will make you step back."
And he turned his rage right on me. "What are you doing back here, Jake?" Pointedly, he looked around us.
